


i will give all for you

by realjane



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Pensieve, Pepper-Up Potion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25584757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realjane/pseuds/realjane
Summary: Theodore Nott's father has died and entailed him a host of memories, including that of one Regulus Black. All that's left is a box of dusty Pepper-Up vials... and a realisation of what could have been.Written for the final round of the Half Blood Prince Elimination ChallengePrompt: Pepper-Up Potion
Kudos: 17
Collections: Half-Blood Prince Drabble Elimination Challenge





	i will give all for you

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing Prompt: Theodore Nott, Dolores Umbridge, Regulus Black (No pink lady present, here!)

__

_  
Nails bite into skin. _

_Pin pricks. Webbed fingers, tugging. Dragging backwards until the water laps overhead._

_One last breath._

_Yanking. Below, down._

_Seaweed tentacles twirling around ankles._

_Teeth on edge, bared--feeding._

_Help! Bubbling cries. Water rushing, chest burning._

_Boot laces tethered to an unseen anchor._

_Dimming light, too far to reach._

_Aquatic fingers twisting at the neck._

_I'm lost._

_I'm--_

Theo heaved himself out of the basin of the Pensieve, scrambling back and losing his footing. He collapsed on the cold stone.

Regulus Black, again. Dying this time.

Theo had seen him in the memory prior as men in dark robes--Death Eaters--came and went from Nott's Croft. In that particular memory, a younger Regulus Black had grasped his father by the elbow and bowed his head, speaking lowly as he encouraged him. Black had cupped the nape of his father's neck and whispered the one phrase that Theo could make out.

_I will give all for you._

He didn't understand why he had heard the man’s name so often as a child (mumbled but never truly spoken) until now, witnessing the remains of a bond that went far beyond a hopeless cause. A deep bond, drowned by Inferi... at the depths of a dark lake. His father--a heartless, weak-minded man--he had loved Black. Maybe he adored Theo's mother, too; in her own way, Hazel's death had made Gwyllem stoic. But he had rallied to raise his infant son. Not so after Black had perished, it was clear. Theo couldn’t remember a time when his father had spoken a kind word to him, or looked him in the eye.

Theo's stomach rolled. Black must have died shortly after Theo was born. The lengths his father must have gone to obtain Black’s last memory...

The shelf above the basin glittered with other memories, trapped like floating promises in silver flasks, showing all manner of hard things better left to rest.

Theo readily found the extensive liquor collection in a case beside the Pensieve. He chose a bottle of Elven wine (always dangerous) which bore his own birth date. Meant to be. Especially after delving into captured memories he wasn't sure he could fathom sober. _Like father, like son._ Theo had learned to brew Pepper-Up potion young; it took vats of the stuff to keep his father functional, between the whiskey and the Dreamless Sleep. Voldemort had demanded more and more from his prophets and Gwyllem just... couldn't operate without a punch from the stuff. 

_I will give all for you,_ he would murmur as Theo tipped Pepper-Up between his pursed lips. He'd press his fingers to his temples. The potion would work its way through his faculties until he could open his eyes at least half-way, and when he saw Theo sitting before him, clutching to the empty glass with worry, Gwyllem would frown and push his son aside.

This was a strange way to show your son that you love him after death--leaving him a veritable shrine to a murdered wizard--but Theo felt it: an odd fondness for his father, rising. If he could love someone enough to preserve their memory, and then pass it on to his only child... 

Theo poured himself a glass of the amber wine and gulped it while he perused the massive desk and its contents, most of which were things he had never seen before: a necklace with a lock of hair inside, a stack of letters, tied with a green ribbon, a medal with a skull and snake, a time-turner with a broken cone. Theo shook the sand clock. Dead. 

A mahogany box sat in the bottom desk drawer, carved intricately with the initials 'GTN'. He knew what it was before the scent of pepper wafted upwards, mingling in his sinuses with the flowery spirits. Theo felt a stab at the thought that his father had to make due without him when he was at school. Bloody pride. Stupid man, hurting in his high tower... drinking himself to death. 

Theo turned back to the armoire, which looked ransacked after his investigations. His gaze settled on a framed photograph, which was practically buried in the back of the cabinet. He fished it out, brushing dust away. He coughed.

He would know one of those faces anywhere. It was his own. Just a wee babe, bouncing on the knee of Regulus Black, as the man waved at the camera. Or, more accurately, the person holding it.

Suddenly, Theo was filled with an unbearable sadness (which he could decipher from the swirl of alcohol because alcohol didn't make his eyes prickle with tears). 

This man's legacy... was part of him. 

He could've been another father, another chance at life lessons taught at the tug of a tailcoat. If only.

Theo set the photograph to the side, but the sight of his own small hand reaching to grasp the long wavy hair of the man was lingering in his periphery. He liberated the box of Pepper-Up potions from the drawer. Inside, tucked behind several empty vials and slightly singed on the corner, was a folded paper. He smoothed it over his knee. The now empty glass clattered unsatisfactorily as it fell on the desk. Cheap, almost plastic. Still, it lay forgotten as he read the message over and over.

> _Gil--_
> 
> _Can’t bear saying goodbye, so I won’t. I can see your face, scowling at me. I meant it. I will give it all for you. You must do the same for your boy._
> 
> _Xx_
> 
> _R_

Theo wrapped his fingers around the bottle and held it aloft, feeling a hot tear escape.

_To you, Regulus._

He drank deeply. He’d worry about the headache in the morning. But maybe… there were a few vials of the potion left in the box. Downright foul, most likely. Worth a test.

Theo left Nott’s Croft (swaying, and well-sloshed) with a box of expired Pepper-Up in one hand, and a photo of Regulus Black in the other.


End file.
